Pensive
by Tifa Gainsborough
Summary: Survival is not an option in the streets of Midgar. It is a necessity. One woman reflections on the actions she has taken to survive. And what actions she will take for the future.


The small bedroom was quiet

The small bedroom was quiet. The only sounds drifted in through the window. The busy sounds of the slums of Midgar filled the small bedroom, informing the occupant that nighttime had hit in full force. Outside the window, the streets would be filled with any and every character imaginable. But in the streets there were really only two types of people. 

Buyers and sellers. 

You were either a buyer and got what you wanted. Or you were a seller and did whatever it took to make a good gil. 

The woman lying in the bed was a seller. She wasn't the best but her young face kept the buyers close at hand. If they paid to touch her, she would let them. As long as there was gil, she couldn't complain.

Clutching the thin sheet over her breasts she stifled a sigh. The man sleeping next to her was neither her husband nor her lover. Simply another buyer willing to pay gil for uncomplicated fuck complication. 

Her gaze slipped across the bedroom and she thoughts crossed her mind. _Where are my clothes?_ She shook her head, hair sweeping the pillow. The man next to her let out a grunt and rolled over.

Her eyes fell on him, watching as he slept. She had never met him before and would probably never see him again. So why was she here in his bed, probably missing half her wardrobe?

_Survival_. 

In the slums if you weren't a buyer or a seller you were a victim. They could see you a mile away and were never afraid to touch you. Screams were always ignored down in the slums. Screaming showed signs of weakness, something that could get you killed down here. She had been quick to learn that. 

So I let strangers touch me so I can survive? I slip deep into my mind, so when I wake up in the morning I won't remember it.

It was lie, she always remembered. But remembrance made you a stronger person. Knowing what you would do to survive, knowing what it took. _Why don't I just leave? Pack up and leave this stupid city and say farewell to all the worthless scum. But I can't, this is my home._

So I go day to day, making sure I have enough gil to make it to the next day.

She rolled over with a sigh, her back to the window and its bright neon lights illuminating in from the city. 

Does life really mean so much to me? To sell my body to the shadows of the night is it really worth all the pain?

But to make it in a world where kindness was not a common word one had to be tough. But she wasn't just some common whore on the streets. She didn't take the gil and buy drugs and have sex at the drop of a silver piece of gil. 

She used the money to make sure she had a roof over her head. That food graced the tables every night. But no matter how much gil she had Shinra always found a way to take it from you. 

Rolling out from under the covers she got to her feet. Standing naked, she faced a full-length mirror opposite the bed. The reflection was that of a young woman, with eyes that held knowledge far beyond her age. They were sad eyes, but had a hardness to them that had come at a heavy price.

People looked in her eyes and would see a survivor. One that made faced the streets and won. But when she smiled a mask slowly slipped into place, that of a happy, perky, bubbly woman full of life. 

The mask shattered when she squinted her eyes. She looked down at herself and frowned. Her body was still young, but the soul trapped inside was aged. Searching for her clothes left her mind to wander. 

Will I one day look back on this and regret that actions I take? What would my mother think if she could see me, selling my body to survive? 

With a sigh she pulled on the last of her clothes. Checking her hair in the mirror she grabbed her gil and exited the room without a single look back. The man would wake up in the morning, see her gone, and not care. To them she was just a toy. To play with and when you got tired of it to toss it aside. 

Brushing a stray lock of hair behind one shoulder she preceded into the night. Men on the street gave her a few catcalls. A few offered to take her home and show her a good time. Eyes focused forward she ignored them. 

_Men_, she thought with a small sneer on her pretty feature. _They can never get it through their heads that woman don't appreciate catcalls_. 

A small fly landed on her dress and she looked down. With a sweep of her small hand she sent the insect away. Crashing into the solid wall was not her original intention. But when the wall groaned a sigh escaped her lips.

"Sorry," she said stepping aside.

"Hey!" 

Somebody grabbed her hand, keeping her from walking again. "Are you all right?"

Keeping her eyes down she nodded, reassuring the person she was fine.

"Can't you speak," the voice asked with a laugh.

"I can speak," she said, her eyes roaming upwards. She met a pair of dancing brown eyes and couldn't help but smile. 

"You are a lucky gal. Its not everyday you get to run into the cutest guy in all of Midgar," the man flirted.

She opened her mouth to disagree but stopped. _He is cute_. Shaking her head she drove the thought from her mind.

The man frowned. "You don't believe me. I'm crushed." Grabbing his chest he staggered around, giving her the impression he was having a heart attack.

"I didn't mean that," she told him.

Stopping, he gave her a winning smile. "Had you there for a moment didn't I? How about you and me get something to eat."

She could see where this was leading. "Then we go back to your place and you ask how much I cost."

One black eyebrow shot up. "Uh…. No. I was thinking more along the lines of I asked you out another night."

"Don't you know what I am?"

He slowly nodded his head. "I'm not blind. I've seen you a lot around here."

"You follow me?"

Brown eyes looked down then finally back up to meet her eyes. "A couple of times. This is where I tell you I like you isn't it?"

"What do you want to say?"

Taking her hand he pulled her to him. "I don't want to see your face disappear into the shadows. Surviving can be accomplished with the help of others."

Searching those eyes she could find the sincerity in them. _Help? Is that I have been doing? Trying to find a voice to call for help, to save me from destruction?_

"Well?"

"You never told me your name."

Those brown eyes blazed with excitement, a happiness that made her weak. "I'm Zack."

"I'm Aerith."

Zack took her hand and led her away from the shadows. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Authors Note:** For my reasons and thoughts on this fanfic, check out my journal at [http://www.livejournal.com/users/tifag][1] I don't flame, show me the same courtesy.

   [1]: http://www.livejournal.com/users/tifag



End file.
